


Bad Medicine

by Morgana



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy has a headache, and Spike knows the perfect cure</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Medicine

Buffy rubbed her forehead and sighed. Apparently Slayer healing and enhanced abilities were no match for stress headaches. This one had shown up three days ago and despite repeated attempts to get rid of it with Advil, Tylenol and even Midol, it had just gotten worse. It had spread, too, from a dull throb at her temples to the current band of iron that was threatening to cave her head in. She felt like screaming, or curling up in bed and not moving until it disappeared, but there were burgers to cook and vampires to slay, so that was out. 

She knew Spike would've patrolled if she'd asked him to, but that would mean asking for help, and from him of all people! Besides, she counted on being able to go out on patrol every night, if only to get away from her overprotective friends, her kleptomaniac sister, and the never-ending mound of bills that seemed to just keep growing every time she checked them. Sometimes she thought everyone waited until they thought she might be getting back onto stable ground and then all rushed her at once, demanding time and attention and answers that she didn't have. 

Patrol was easy. There was only one answer here - kill it. Well, unless _it_ happened to be Spike, and then she ended up trying to solve her problems in a completely different way. But she wasn't thinking about that, wasn't going to do that anymore. Not with him, anyway, no matter how strong he was or how good his hands would feel right now. She scowled at the thought, then stopped and sank down against one of the tombstones, resting her back against the tall stone slab. The chill that seeped through her shirt made her shiver even as it eased a little of the pain. Maybe she could just stay here all night 

"Gonna catch cold if you stay like that, luv." 

Buffy sighed inwardly when the rough voice broke into the first quiet she'd managed to get in days. Did Spike have some kind of radar that went off anytime she was feeling rotten, some kind of Slayer homing device that sent him in search of her to rub the salt in? "Go away, Spike. I don't - I'm not up to it tonight, okay?" 

He frowned and crouched down in front of her - as always, doing the exact opposite of what she'd asked. "You okay, Slayer? Don't usually sit down on the job like this." 

"I've got a headache," she muttered, rubbing fretfully at the iron band that seemed to pull tighter whenever she mentioned it. 

Her hand was brushed away and a pair of cool hands settled at her temples, rubbing in a slow circular motion. "Take anythin' for it?" 

She sighed at the feel of his hands on her feverish skin. "Only half the medicine cabinet. I'm starting to think the Hellmouth gives off some kind of vibes that make it stronger or something." 

"Could get rid of it, if you want," he offered after a few minutes of silence. 

Buffy opened one eye and peered up at him. "How?" 

Spike smirked. "Best cure for a headache is sex." When she looked like she was about to push him away, he hurried to explain. "Somethin' about blood rushin' an' constrictin'. Look it up if you don't believe me!" 

"You're just trying to get me to sleep with you again," she retorted. But when a throb from her head made her wince, she asked, "Does it really work?" 

He hesitated, then admitted, "Never tried it before, but I saw it on a medical show, figure they know what they're talkin' about." When she was still silent, he said quietly, "Not askin' for anythin' for myself, luv. Just wanna make your headache go away, that's all." 

She didn't say anything for several minutes, and he was almost sure she was about to tell him to go stuff himself when she mentioned, "Dawn's over at Janice's tonight." 

Spike fought to keep from roaring his triumph to the skies. "An' the witches?" 

"They're at the movies." She opened her eyes and gave him a pained smile. "I like my bed better than your floor, anyways." 

He nodded and helped her up, steadying her when she swayed on her feet. They walked to her house and Buffy thought again about how strange it was that she didn't need to fill the air with idle chatter around him. She could just... be. It was enough to make her slide her hand into his, like any other girl bringing someone home. He looked over at her in surprise, but curled his fingers around hers and returned her brief squeeze. 

She locked the door behind them and led him upstairs, slightly surprised at the flutter of nervousness in her stomach with the act of taking him up to her room. There was something serious about it, like they were actually a couple, instead of just two people that had sex sometimes. She stopped just outside her door and nearly called it off until a pulse of pain from behind her eyes reminded her why she was doing this. Just getting rid of the headache, she reminded herself. 

Once they were inside, Buffy pulled her shirt off, then reached behind her to unfasten her bra, but Spike's hand caught hers before she could get it undone. "Let me," he murmured. "Please?" Biting her lip, she nodded and he smiled, then bent to give her a brief kiss before shucking off his duster and t-shirt. He stroked a hand down from her shoulder, lightly caressing the curve of her breast. Her nipple tightened in anticipation, but the touch she expected never came. 

Instead, Spike stroked his fingers between her breasts, moving down over her stomach to unfasten her pants. He spread the fly open with both hands after he'd undone the last button, fingertips brushing over her underwear in passing. Buffy caught her breath as he pushed the pants down over her hips, then guided her onto the mattress and knelt in front of her to remove her boots and socks before pulling the pants the rest of the way off. His fingers wrapped around her ankles, smoothing up her legs as he slid between them, pulling her against him so she could feel his arousal. "Like knowin' what you do to me?" he asked, dipping his head to kiss along her jaw. 

She tilted her head to give him better access, sighing at the solid pressure against her. "Mmmmhmmm." 

A nip on her ear made her gasp and Spike laughed as he unhooked her bra and eased it off, then lay her back on the bed. He shifted over to the side and she whimpered a little at the loss of contact, but quickly forgot about it when his hand brushed over her breasts. The first light touch had her nipples hardening quickly, eager for more. Any other night there might have been teasing until she was made to beg, but tonight Spike seemed to understand her need and settled his hand fully over one breast almost immediately, lowering his head to kiss the other. 

His tongue stroked around her nipple until he drew the bud into his mouth and sucked, drawing on it with a pressure that was just this side of pain, until her body began to lose track of the difference. His fingers massaged some of the ache from her free breast before he abandoned it, his hand creeping downwards to cup her through her underwear. The pressure of his hand was enough to make her moan and arch up into it, and he lightly scraped his teeth over her, then blew over the damp skin, causing it to draw tighter still. "Want 'em off?" 

Buffy nodded, then whispered, "Please." She knew about the pleasure that was waiting, and it was as if the days of pain had made her more sensitive than usual, more eager to seek out what she knew he could give. 

He kissed the rosy peak of her breast once more, then sat up and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her underwear. "Lift up, luv." 

She obeyed, spreading her legs without urging once the cotton slid down and fell away, opening herself readily to him. One hand settled over her mound again, his fingers stroking her folds with a light touch that made her shiver and bite back a moan. Spike shifted back up on the bed, two fingers sliding inside as if by accident, but hardly anything he did in bed was an accident. He bent to kiss her, their tongues wrapping around each other until she had to break away with a gasp. 

Kisses trailed down her throat, back to her breast and Buffy sighed, her eyes drifting closed as she gave herself over to Spike's magic. But after a few minutes, she became aware that something was different. He wasn't moving his hand, wasn't doing anything other than pressing against her and that was... wrong. She raised her hips, driving him deeper, but he didn't seem to notice. Another buck, hard enough to make her whimper, and Spike glanced up at her. "Want somethin', pet?" 

"Don't tease," she told him. "You know what I need." 

He ground the heel of his hand against her. "Can always take it for yourself, you know." 

Buffy bit her lip, caught between embarrassment and need, but in the end, need won out. She moved her hips again slowly, sighing at the slide of his fingers. He ground his hand against her to encourage her and she arched under him again, then again, each time finding it easier to simply reach out and claim what she wanted. 

Spike watched her, his eyes dark. "That's it, Slayer. Show me what you want, yeah? God, you're beautiful." 

She moaned, the words as always adding an extra swirl of heat. One hand drifted to the breast that Spike had left unclaimed, her own fingers seeking her nipple as she started riding his hand in earnest, bucking against him while he pressed against her. 

"Fuck, that's it. Fuck yourself on my fingers, baby," Spike whispered, rolling her nipple between his fingers. He kissed his way up to her ear, biting the lobe gently. "Love watchin' you get off," he purred. "Gonna come for me, sweetheart, hmm? Gonna soak my hand with it?" 

"Yeah," Buffy panted, her hips working faster, driving his fingers in and out until she could feel the tightening in her thighs that signalled she was close. "Yeah, yeah, ohhhh, YEAH!" She froze as it crashed over her, and Spike ground his hand down, drawing it out as long as he could until she shuddered and gasped. 

A slow, sweet kiss greeted her as she opened her eyes, and Spike smiled. "How's the headache?" 

"Better," she admitted. The piercing pain of earlier had faded to a dull throb, and she could actually concentrate a little now. "Doesn't hurt as much." 

"Still there, though," he replied, giving her a brief kiss. "Pretty sure I promised to make it go away, didn't I?" 

She laughed softly. "You did." 

Spike smirked at her, then slowly slid down to the floor, folding to his knees between her legs. "Open for me, luv," he purred, and she spread readily for him when he pulled her to the edge of the bed, urging her legs up over his shoulders. Just knowing what was coming next was sending heat sparking through her body, and she had to bite her lip to keep from whimpering when he leaned forward and looked up at her along the length of her body. 

The first flicker of his tongue over her slit was followed by a slightly stronger press, and she moaned softly. He always teased her like this, said he loved to see her body react to him, and she knew why. Before Spike, nobody had bothered to take the time to really satisfy her. Riley didn't like going down on her, only did it after she'd blown him, and usually viewed it more as foreplay than a sex act in itself. But Spike loved it and would gladly spend hours sending into mind-blowing orgasm after bone-melting orgasm if she let him. 

Two fingers stroked over her, then reverently spread her open. Cool air washed over her, the shock electric to her heating flesh, making her whimper. Spike chuckled, the low timbre of his voice giving his own arousal away. "So wet for me, Slayer. Smell so good, too." 

Just when she thought she couldn't stand the wait any longer, he struck. His tongue swept over her, lapping along her skin in long, broad strokes. She was sure he was going to go right for her clit but instead he plunged his tongue inside her and started fucking her with it rapidly. It felt so different, having his tongue move inside her like that when she was used to mainly his fingers or dick - sleeker, shallower, wetter, more of a tease that made her wriggle a little bit more. 

Spike seemed to like that response, because he groaned against her, sending vibrations all through her in the very best way possible. She raised her hips and he seemed to take it as an invitation, quickly switching tongue for fingers. There was no warning, no quiet tease until she begged, just a sudden ravenous attack on her clit with tongue and mouth that made her moan. Her usually clever lover who toyed with her expertly was gone, leaving just an animal who had no thought except to make her scream. 

His tongue swirled around her, lashing over her again and again like a velvet whip before his teeth scraped over her, adding a hint of pain. Buffy writhed under the assault, her hips pressing into the bed and back up for more, and Spike followed every move, never taking his mouth off her. She could hear herself gasping, a faint sob of "Oh, oh, oh," coming from her lips in a litany of pleasure. 

He licked and sucked, a growl building in the back of his throat that seemed to demand that she give everything up to him, and God, she knew she couldn't stop, not even if all of her friends were to walk through the door right that minute. He closed his lips around her clit and sucked hard just as his fingers thrust deep inside her and curled to touch that spot, and Buffy shrieked, thrashing under the dual assault, pleasure rolling her under in great spasms that left her gasping for air. 

But Spike wasn't done yet. He knelt up and reached for his coat, his hand slipping into the pocket to retrieve something. She opened her mouth to ask what it was when he held his hand up for inspection. "Got somethin' for you, luv." The tip of his thumb was covered with a nubbly sheath of black rubber that was connected to a little plastic pack that lay along the rest of his thumb. Buffy's eyes widened. She'd seen that before, in a magazine that she and Willow had giggled over back in high school, but she'd never expected to have anything like that actually used on her. 

Of course, she'd never expected to have a lover like Spike, either. He brushed his forefinger over the toy and a soft buzzing filled the room. Lowering his hand, his thumb slid easily over her sex until the vibrator lay just above her clit. Spike moved it in a slow circle, but when Buffy arched her hips up, he took his hand away. "No movin', now." 

Not move?!? He wanted her to stay still while that thing sent some of the most delicious sensations she'd ever felt through her body? Buffy whined in protest, but the heat in his eyes had her nodding reluctantly and holding her breath until the vibrator was once again settled in place. It didn't take long for her to regret her promise as the little toy went to work. God, it felt good! She moaned and whispered, "Please, Spike? I - I need to move." 

"Not yet, baby. Want you wild for it, don't I? Gonna make you scream for me." He brushed it softly back and forth, making her bite her lip with the effort to keep still. The steady build-up of vibration was pulling her closer to the peak with every minute that passed, and she knew he could feel the strain gathering in her body. He always read her like a book, and while it might tick her off outside of the bedroom, here it made her moan and scream and beg for him. 

"So bloody gorgeous when you're like this," Spike purred, his gaze drifting between her aching sex and the blissed-out torture on her face. "Love watchin' you try to hold back, yeah? Makes me so hard..." His free hand drifted down to rub the bulge that pressed against his jeans and he moaned, the low sound ripping right through her in a fresh burst of need. 

"Spiiiiike," she whimpered. The vibrator had taken her right to the edge, and she was close, so close. Just one more thing, one tiny movement, one extra sensation and she'd go over, she knew it. "Please, I need... oooooh, I need -" 

"What do you need, baby?" he asked, releasing himself to lean over her. "Need to move, don't you?" 

"Need you," she moaned. "Inside... ohhhh, please, need your cock inside me...." The words caught her by surprise, but as soon as they were out, she felt the truth of them. She wanted him inside, wanted to come around him and take him with her when she finally went spinning out into the vast openness that she could feel waiting for her. 

Spike stared at her for a second, then jerkily nodded and practically ripped his pants open. She caught only a brief glimpse of his dick before he wrapped his hand around it and guided it to her opening, pressing inside with a long, slow movement. They both moaned as he slid home, each closing their eyes to enjoy the feeling of fullness and completion that always seemed to accompany this. 

He started moving, but it was so slow, too slow to be anything more than a tease that added to her torture. Buffy rolled her head back and forth on the pillow, mewling her frustration as the pleasure swelled inside her, expanding in a bubble that was a single breath from breaking. A slow push inside made her hiss and Spike leaned down to whisper, "Feel it, Slayer? Feel how close you are? God, so wet an' tight... could do this forever, keep you here 'til you beg me to come." 

He rocked against her several times in quick succession, then went back to his very slow thrusting. "Spiiiike," she moaned, hands tightening in the sheets, "I need - ohhhh, I have to... God, please!" 

"Need what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want."

His thumb brushed over her clit, sending vibrations zinging through her. She gasped. "Oh, God! I need to... need to come, have to... can't hold back. I gotta come, Spike, pleeeeease lemme come!"

"Not yet," he gritted out, but he began to speed up. "Hold on for me, baby. Gonna feel sooo good when you finally let go, yeah? Send you flyin', make you scream." 

She whined high in her throat, her hands fluttering up from the sheets to grab his shoulders, seeking his solid presence to ground her. "I can't - it feels - Spike, I have to come!"

The vibrator slid down to press directly against her clit and she barely heard him say, "Come!" before she screamed, her body bowing under his with a force that threatened to tear her apart. The pleasure was overwhelming, splintering through her in burst after burst, one orgasm following another until they joined into a long, continuous onslaught of ecstasy that left her limp and boneless in the aftermath, clinging to Spike like a liferaft. She only dimly noticed that he was shuddering with the same kind of sudden release, holding on to her as though he might fall to pieces if he let go. 

After what could have been minutes, hours or a couple of days, he managed to work his hand out from between them and turn the vibrator off. Rolling over to the side, he gathered her against him and gave a shaky sigh. "Headache still there?" 

Buffy giggled. "Don't know. I think the top of my head came off, so I'm guessing it's gone." 

His tired laugh rumbled under her ear as she snuggled a little closer, her lack of sleep over the past few days beginning to catch up to her. "Should probably go, then." 

She yawned. "No, not yet. Don't have to get up for a while..." and just like that, she was fast asleep. Spike glanced down at her, smiling at how thoroughly debauched and completely adorable she looked before he, too, drifted off to sleep. 

They were still sound asleep when Dawn walked in the next morning. But that's another story...


End file.
